


Ruby Dunes

by tokii



Series: 壊れた方 [22]
Category: Original Work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-15
Updated: 2019-11-15
Packaged: 2021-01-31 01:07:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21437662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tokii/pseuds/tokii
Summary: To reconnect, the Boys conduct an unsanctioned op in western Kazakhstan.Tag: Light Purple (Mood).
Series: 壊れた方 [22]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1542805





	Ruby Dunes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sophisthoe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sophisthoe/gifts).

Ruby Dunes

From left to right, looking at the compound, Tim (21), Dick (27), Damian (17), and Jason (24) are on an unsanctioned mission in the Ryn Desert in western Kazakhstan. They’re laying against a sand dune, clad in ‘desert ghost’ stealth gear. Sand is wisping lazily up off the edge of the dune, turning the sky to swirling blood.

•••

Jason hawks out a mouthful of red spit: Fucking sand. I hate deserts.

Damian: Yeah? Well, they hate you, too.

Jason: You know what, Dami—

Damian: You’re disturbing the peace, Todd. This is a _stealth_ mission. We’re trying _not_ to get caught.

Jason: Fuck off, Damian.

Damian: Why did we bring episodic PTSD to the desert, again?

Tim: We’re in Kazakhstan for a rescue op, not Kandahar.

Dick: Yeah, ‘cause the giant terrorist compound in the middle of the desert isn’t a trigger.

Jason: Oh my god, I need to shoot someone.

Tim: We’ve been laying here for 3 hours; I think you can wait another 40 minutes.

Damian smirks at Jason: Not at this rate.

Jason clenches and unclenches a slightly trembling hand out of view of the others.

They sit in silence, the wind building, sand flipping up into wisps of smoke. It seems to dance before vanishing into an orange sky. It’s the most peaceful aspect of an op… the waiting. It’s the silence that fills the space between preparation and action. It’s when your mind has time to adjust to your surroundings, to attune your senses to your environment. You have freedom to notice the patterns of sand flicking through the air, as if in a sort of murmuration, twisting and diving above their heads. 5 mile per hour winds from 7 o’clock. Accounting for temperature nearing sunset, and it’s a good day to hunt murderous dirtbags. No one seems to dwell on the severity of the task at hand so long before it approaches. It’s good fun, that way.

Jason: Titbitch.

Damian: Cuntpuddle.

Dick: And the truce has been made.

Tim: God, I need coffee to put up with this.

The edge of Jason’s mouth creeps up: You got my back?

Dami: It’s hard to miss…

Dick: Tim, brief us.

Tim: All right, target is female by the name of Dilruba Esel Erdoğan, age 34. American nickname: Ruby. Reported missing 5 weeks ago by an aunt. The report was then redacted by MİT.

Daughter to the late Prime Minister of Turkey: Erkan Hamit Erdoğan.

She served for 8 years in a linguistic division under MİT, the Turkish National Intelligence Organization. During this time, she was appointed as the Turkish Ambassador to Austria. 5 years ago, Dilruba and her father were traveling to the Kingdom of Bahrain for a private meeting with the Al Khalifa royal family, when their transport was attacked. The Prime Minister was declared DOA due to severe flash burn wounds. His daughter, Dilruba, was medevacked to a special facility in Dammam, Saudi Arabia. There she was saved with cutting-edge cybernetic enhancements, and most of her damaged organic matter was replaced with synthetic carbon fiber netting. Part of her cortical system was also modified with regenerating biotech.

Dick: Since the attack, she has operated covertly, reporting directly to Undersecretary Mahir Yavuz.

Dami: Her enhancements obviously made her an ideal candidate for high-risk fieldwork, and her synthetic memory-processing center was likely utilized to store sensitive information.

Jason catches the first second of Dick’s goofy grin, until it disappears.

Damian twiddles his pointer finger through an imaginary opening, making an obscene gesture toward Jason. Jason stifles a violent snort, spitting sand into Damian’s face. Dami just begins to slap Jason across the cheek when Tim gives them the ‘mom’ look, interjecting with a stern and fairly annoyed, “Guys.”

Tim: Last month, an unnamed terrorist group abducted her; though no organization has claimed responsibility for the abduction, we have reason to believe that this is the same group that staged the assault on her and her father in Bahrain.

Jason: Naturally, they’d want to make good on their botched assassination attempt.

Dami: Coincidentally, she’s now a walking security risk that they can wring dry.

Tim notices Dick’s expression slip for just a moment, eyes darting towards the facility. Just as suddenly as his expression had fallen, he’s steeled himself, and back to the task at hand. Tim purses his lips and decides not to press him.

Tim: On her memory storage drives is valuable intel relating to both the Justice League, and foreign intelligent operatives. She’s being held in the western part of the compound, while the drives are being held in the southern wing. It is critical that we secure both her and the drives.

Dick: Recon?

Jason: There’s a decommissioned bomb shelter entrance on the northeast corner of the compound. No guards, and the dunes provide cover. It leads to the service tunnels above the east wing. Once Tim hits the lights, that’ll be our way in.

Dami: And our only way out.

Dick: Jason and Damian, you two will be securing the drives in the southern wing. Tim and I will locate Dilruba in the western part of the compound.

Tim: An unsanctioned air force strike was ordered by a private military organization in Belarus four hours ago - hence the brief happening not a mile away from our objective - and it will reach the compound in exactly an hour and 24 minutes. Again, it is absolutely critical that both she and the drives leave this compound. I…

He pauses, and glances at each of his brothers’ faces, all of their eyes fixed on him. They’d grown close since Alfred…well, Tim had never considered them much of a family. But now, they were all he had. And it was enough. It was more than enough.

Tim: It’s not guaranteed that we’ll all make it out… Do whatever is necessary to preserve the mission.

Dami notices Jason wrap a quivering hand around the hilt of his gun, knuckles blanched. Despite his skill, he should have opted out of _this_ mission. But Jason isn’t one to say no these days. And Damian’ll be damned if he lets anything happen to Jason on this op.

Dick: We’re brothers. She is the mission, but no one is dying tonight. That’s an order.

Jason: Well, see you on the other side.

He takes care so that his voice doesn’t waver. Jason notices Damian observing him, and Damian nods at him, either out of questioning or out of reassurance. Regardless, Jason winks at him. If anyone has his back, it’s Damian, surprisingly enough.

•••

Jason and Damian slip through a new section of the dimly lit compound. There’s a guard down a hallway on the left, who spots them. He begins to yell out, when Jason puts a bullet in his head.

Jason: Guess we’re done with stealth.

Damian draws his katana blades, smirking. They fight in unison, anticipating each other’s movements - cleanly, instinctively, efficiently. They’re brothers, after all. They proceed from section to section. Damian puts a sword through a gurgling chest. He clicks his tongue when he can’t pull it out of the corpse, making a snide comment toward Jason. The man’s hand shoots up and closes around Damian’s fist on the blade.

Damian: They’re fucking enhanced!

He’s thrown through a wall on the right, disappearing in a plume of dust and debris. Jason shoots the reanimation through the skull three times. Damian’s laying against a pile of rubble on the ground, holding a crooked, bloodied hand to his chest.

Dami: gahhh, shitt.

Jason kneels down and pulls gauze from a pocket: This is really guna fucking hurt.

Dami: nhh… quickly, Todd.

His eyes are squeezed shut, foot tapping against the stone. Jason closes Dami’s hand around a fistful of gauze and wraps the hand in a club.

Dami: DAMMIT.

Jason shoots another round into the chest of the ‘frightful dead’ and Damian reaches for their comms system.

Dami: Dick, hkk, some of them are enhanced. It activates when under extreme physical stressors.

Tim: Great (heard from the background).

Dick, yelling: Ti—kzzz.

Dami: Ghh, why do we even bother, hnn, putting Tim in charge.

Jason: Heh, look at you making jokes.

Dami: You’re an asshole, Todd. 

Jason: Tuck your hand in your katana strap.

Dami tucks his wrapped fist beneath the strap, and Jason helps him up.

Dami: Cover my right. Luckily, I’m a lefty (deftly swinging the blade with his left).

Jason: I can see why he didn’t need a paternity test…

Dami: YOU LITTLE —

•••

Dick punches an assailant in the face who then collapses to the floor. Tim breathes “great” to his right, just as he’s dislodging a man’s larynx with his bō staff. 

Dick: What?

Tim: Something’s off.

The guy is still pinned between Tim’s staff and the wall, unconscious. Damian radios in, but it’s garbled.

Dami: kzzz—hnn— enhanc—kzzz.

Dick yells Tim’s name just as the man Tim pinned looks up and roars into his face. He grips Tim’s forearm, and kicks Tim’s legs out from under him with incredible force. The man at Dick’s feet jumps up and Dick electrocutes him in the neck. Tim lets out a scream as the enhanced fighting him presses hit foot into his shoulder blade, ripping his arm up towards him. The popping cartilage can be heard over the electrocuted man’s writhing on the floor. Tim twists and pulls three of the pins from the enhanced man’s belt and kicks him backward into the fresh crowd rounding the corner.

Tim: Dick, take cover!

He rolls through a door on the left. Dick looks back just as the guy he electrocuted stops moving, and Dick begins to dive into the open hallway on the left. The explosion catches him midair, and he smacks into the wall of the corridor.

•••

Jason takes the door and covers the southern hallway, firing into the mass of bodies down the way. Dami’s dumping the chip files onto an encrypted drive, and purging the systems of all other information. The door across Dami begins to bow under the pressure of fists slamming into it from the other side.

Jason: Hurry, Damian. 9mm rounds aren’t slowing these guys down all that much.

Dami: A couple more minutes.

Jason whispers: Maybe if you had both hands…

Dami mockingly: Mayybe iff I had botth hannds. You fucking do it then, Todd. I can shoot a gun into a 6-foot-tall target just as well as you can.

Bodies begin to congest out in the narrow hall, and Jason throws a grenade down the passageway. Black smoke fills the room, and the other door bursts open. Jason fires into the empty space, running to put himself between Dami and the door. Bullets whizz in and out of the room, tracers lighting the smoke with frightful images. Mid-stride, Jason pushes Dami through the window on the right, jumping through himself. He feels white heat tear through him as he and Dami tumble through a makeshift roof one story below.

Dami: The hell, Todd!?

He prepares a witty and seething insult through gritted teeth, when he hears a groan beside him. He turns, eyes wide, and sees the blood dripping from Jason’s side.

•••

Dick definitely has a concussion. And there’s blood, coming from… somewhere. His brows are sticky, wetness trickling into his eyes, down his nose. It drips onto his lip, a bitter metal. Ah, he found the blood. Nearby, Tim rolled into the room where, luckily, Ruby is being held. He coughs on the dusty debris, groans and pushes himself to his knees. His right arm hangs limply from its socket – utterly dislocated. He peers through the coarse, settling dust and finds bright eyes staring back at him.

Tim: Dilruba Erdoğan?

Ruby: Yes… You are American.

Tim: Yeah.

Her hair’s spiky, a deep red, and a metal plate covers the left portion of her skull. She’s striking, though. Copper skin, freckles, and a sharp nose… Her gaze is fierce. And that’s when he realizes her chest is bare.

Tim: Oh, god, I’m sorry.

And he looks down and away, taking his cape hold in one hand and offering it out in an apologetic gesture.

Tim: Here.

Ruby: I don’t mind. It’s nothing no-one has already seen.

And that’s when he looks again, out of… professional curiosity. She’s a technical wonder. The carbon fiber sheath composes her entire left hand, arm, and extends down the left side of her chest. It inches above her clavicle, and extends across her sternum. The rest of her prosthetics, however, have been removed. Her right arm is absent to the shoulder. And both her legs are fitted with carbon fiber netting, ending several inches above the knee. The metallic sheath wraps up her waist and ends just below where the chest piece ends. He had heard that the material was tested using the equivalent force of Superman’s strength.

Ruby: There’s not much organic left of me, but if you find my mods, I’ll help you get out of here. They’re connected to my nervous system, so they won’t be hard to locate.

Tim: There’s an air strike ordered to hit this base in 27 minutes. I’m sorry, but we don’t have the time.

Although, it would be a waste for such tech to be buried in the middle of the Ryn Desert. That, and Ruby is such an efficient operative because of her enhancements. If she doesn’t have replacements, well, Tim remembers all of Cyborg’s cosmetic problems; though he’s probably a bit more melodramatic than this girl seems to be.

Ruby: Well, it’s a good thing I have the patents and three different versions of the cybernetic skins. I guess you’ll have to carry me.

Dick stumbles in through the doorway and catches himself on the splintered frame. Blood is streaming down the left side of his face, catching on his chin. He coughs, and looks up at Ruby, and gives her an endearingly crooked smile.

Dick: Hey, Rubes. 

Ruby smirks back at him: 37. Mmm, I hadn’t realized you were back in the tights. If I had known, I would have surfaced sooner.

Tim: Wait, you two know each other? You didn’t think to mention that in the briefing, _Dick_?

Dick: It’s sensitive information.

Ruby cocks her head and grins at him: It’s your turn to carry me, Grayson.

Tim, rubbing at his eyes, defeated: I didn’t want to picture that…

•••

Dami: Hoodie… Todd?

Jason groans and rolls to his side: Yeah… hhtt, shit… guh, there’s no exit wound.

Dami: You have any more gauze?

Todd: Left back pocket, you’ll find one of Steph’s tampons. 

Dami: You’ve gotta be fucking kidd—

Todd: Nah, no, not like that. You weren’t there when she passed them out during her “survival training” phase? Tim must’ve had an entire box in his gym bag…

There’s an uncoordinated ripping of plastic, accompanied by a time-sensitive drip-dripping of blood.

Dami: I don’t know how to use it.

Jason: For fuck’s sake, Damian, just push it out of the tube.

Dami, nose crinkled: Why does it smell like tulips?

Jason: Just stick it i--- GAHHHH.

Damian secretly grins at himself for so efficiently inflicting pain upon Todd. Serves him right for getting shot when Damian was supposed to protect him. He also slides the lily-smelling feminine product into his back pocket… for Saara. The Blood Lily is indigenous only to Saudi Arabia. It’s her favorite flower. She’ll probably get the joke.

•••

A bit of “manly” screaming emerges from the other side of the corridor.

Ruby: What was that…

Tim: That would be the rest of our dysfunctional family unit.

Ruby is on Dick’s back, arm wrapped around his chest.

Dick: Will you be able to hold on?

Ruby: I took down a terrorist cell with this one arm.

Dick: I know, it was super hot.

Tim: We have 23 minutes before the air strike.

Tim steps out through the door, grumbling because he didn’t bring enough blood bags for everyone… And those girly screams definitely belonged to Jason, post bullet extraction. He had distinctly different screams reserved for various injuries.

Dick: I’ve missed you, Rubes.

Ruby: I know. Thank you, Dick.

She whispers into his ear, blowing his brown locks up onto his cheek.

Ruby: Thank you for finding me.

Dick whispers in return: Always.

His smile is crooked, and she kisses his cheek just as they begin their journey across the desert.

The three of them haul ass and make it through the hatch with 17 minutes to spare.

•••

Dami and Jason stumble down the hallway, Jason’s weight sagging against Damian’s smaller frame.

Dami: Come on, Todd. I’m not dying down here, and you’re not allowed to.

He lifts him up higher with some effort, and they sway forward until Jason’s feet begin to follow suit.

Dami: Dick’s orders.

After his own death, Damian saw the world differently. It was never bright or promising to begin with. But after he came back… colors just weren’t the same. Everything had a tint of gray, smeared with the residue left by the afterlife. Even Picasso’s works hung dismal in their frames. But Jason knew. He knew what death was. And what life can look like after coming through it, for better or worse. After what happened with Alfred, Damian would visit Todd and they’d share a bottle of cheap whiskey. (Since he was the only one who would let him drink). And to his dismay, Damian started to befriend Jason. The outcast. The reject. The black sheep. But Jason was really more than anyone gave him credit for. Damian could never agree with Father’s decision to take Jason in. But after spending time with him, he saw the man that he could have been. Rather, he saw the man that he was. And he was enough. Damian understood why Father chose him. And soon, he respected him, as an ally, as an equal. As a brother.

Dami: Just hang on, Jaybird. We still have time.

Jason’s head hangs, but he manages a soft smile.

Jason: Cumbubble…

Damian: TT, this is why people don’t like you, Todd.

The drip-dripping trailing them slows as if set to a metronome. Jason huffs and winks at Damian, who is a good five inches shorter than him.

Jason: You called me Jaybird earlier…

Damian: I wasn’t in the mood to insult you since the blood loss puts you at a clear disadvantage. I may still have my wits… but you’re unarmed.

Jason chokes he snorts so hard.

Jason: Fucknnhh, gah, you are unbelievable. We’re both about to die, hh, and you make fun of me by paraphrasing Shakespeare.

Damian falls quiet for a moment, and he draws in his eyebrows, wrinkling his face with a hard look.

Damian, almost whispering: Thou know’st ’tis common; all that lives must die…

Jason joins him in the silence, thinking on what Damian just said. He knows death all too well. They both do. And Damian’s so young. Hell, Jason’s still young, but, Damian… he’s like a little brother to him now. After everything, he deserves to have a life. A long one. Because so few who deserved it were given the chance to have one.

Jason: Why’d you call me Jaybird, Damian?

Dami’s lips are tightly pressed, but he’s not angry. He looks… sad.

Dami: In honor of him… of Roy. I know it’s not right of me to use that nickname. He was your friend. But I want you to know, that you can depend on me, Todd.

Jason: Roy…

He breathes slowly, deeply. He hasn’t talked about Roy since Alfred. But now was as good a time as any.

Jason: Roy was a brother to me… and he was always there, until he wasn’t.

Damian holds his breath and fixes his eyes on the passageway ahead. He can’t look at Todd, not after jeopardizing their friendship.

Jason: But you, Damian, you’ll always be my little brother.

He grins stupidly at Damian, blood splattered on his white teeth, white lock pasted to his forehead with sweat.

Jason: The valiant never taste of death but once… Guess that makes you and I special, huh?

Damian, sighing: You missed the point of Julius Caesar, Todd. That would make us cowards, since we’ve died multiple times.

Jason’s wide smile settles into a peaceful grin: I’m proud of you, kid.

Damian: Thanks… twatwaffle.

They crawl out of the hatch with 12 minutes left. They can see the three others off in the distance.

Dami: Fuck, we have to run, Todd. We have a 0.75-mile blast radius to clear in the next 12 minutes.

Todd glances up in a bit of a haze: Faaaahhck me.

•••

Dick: Everyone okayy?

Three groans reply in unison.

Dick: Anyone need my blood? I’m a universal donor…

Dami: Jason calls dibs.

Dick: I need to hear it from the big man himself.

Jason groans: Fuck you, Dickie.

Tim: My, someone has Tourettes today.

Dami: Get out of here, Dr. Georges Gilles de la Tourette.

Tim: Wow, that was unfunny. I’ll just be over here, unconscious.

Jason smirks. An uncomfortable Tim makes everyone happy.

Ruby: Are you four always like this?

Dick: Yeah, pretty much.

Ruby: Hmm. Well, come here, 37. I want to thank you with a number of my own…

Dami: NO.

Jason: god, no.

Tim: Please, let it end.

Ruby: No, you perverts. I had a numerical designation when I worked undercover at Spyral, too.

She leans over and whispers into his ear. His eyes widen, and his mouth drops open.

Dick: No freaking way. That was you? That was you! I knew you were too hot to be a sheepherder named Arvid.

Jason: Now I really want to know.

Dami: Shut up until you stop bleeding.

Tim: I haven’t had coffee in 47 hours, if everyone continues to make noise…

Jason: What, Timmy? What’ll you —.

Damian clasps his hand over Jason’s nose and mouth and shushes him. Damian then looks toward Tim while Jason struggles to catch his breath.

Dami: Here, Tim, why don’t I just put your shoulder back in for you, huh?

Ruby: This is going to be a long night.

Dick, grinning: Yes, it probably will be.

Screaming ensues.


End file.
